


The Consultation

by Johniarty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Breast Worship, Breasts, Doctor/Patient, Fat John, Fondling, Gender Affirmation, M/M, Making Out, Medical Kink, Not Approved Medical Practice, Nudity, Surgery Consultation, Teasing, Topless, Trans Character, Trans John, Trans Male Character, Transgender, gender euphoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 05:38:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18067604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johniarty/pseuds/Johniarty
Summary: John's secured funding for his top surgery through the NHS after what feels like years. His doctor, a handsome Irishman named James Moriarty, helps him feel safe and comfortable during his exam - it's overwhelming.





	The Consultation

**Author's Note:**

> uh hi i have a huge crush on my top surgeon lmao
> 
> I had top surgery on Dec 24th, 2018, and I promised this fic after my consultation that September, but I was a little too excited about finally getting top and couldn't focus. I hope you like it!

John Watson sat quietly on the examination table. His sister Harry sat in a chair nearby, his emotional support and a beacon of confidence to offset his anxiety. Everyone at the outpatient clinic had been kind so far - he wasn’t used to being correctly gendered, or treated like a normal human being. 

“I’m sure you’ll like Dr Moriarty. You’ve looked through his results, right?”

“Yeah. He’s done some great work for men like me. With… with my size.”

His skin stuck to his chest in the warm room. The nurse who did his preliminary examination, Mary, was kind and gentle. She made sure her touch didn’t exacerbate his dysphoria, but sitting topless wasn’t easy for John. It never had been. His gut twisted with anxious tension. What if he couldn’t afford top surgery? What if he’d never be rid of his chest?

The door clicked open, and Dr Moriarty entered. He looked like his photos online, but John wasn’t expecting to be so overwhelmed. Big brown eyes crinkled in the corners as he flashed John a disarming smile. His arched brows made him look almost mischievous. Pale-skinned, dark-haired, he seemed like a faerie hiding among humans. Even Harry couldn’t help but stare. Moriarty’s eyes slid over him, drinking in the sight of him half-naked on the table. 

“Hello,” Moriarty cooed, offering John his hand. “Jim Moriarty. Hi. You’re John Watson?”

“Ah, yeah, nice to meet you,” John murmured in response. Dr Moriarty’s hand was soft and smooth. He shook it gently, enjoying the warmth of his touch. 

“Aren’t you handsome! You look nervous - don’t be, my office is a place you can be yourself without harassment. Just as a bit of a warning, I’m going to need to do my own examination to measure your chest and see what work you need done. Is that alright?”

Blushing, John nodded. Would those gentle hands slide against his bare skin?

“Your girlfriend - “

“Sister!” Harry interjected. “Sister, I’m his support system.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Your sister can wait outside, if you’re more comfortable with that.”

“Is that alright, Harry?”

She gave John a knowing smile. Of course he wanted to be alone with Dr Moriarty - Harry could see John’s interest plain as day. With a nod at them both, she excused herself. 

“Just text me if you need me. I’ll ask the assistant about payment.”

Alone in the room with Jim, John’s heart raced. 

“Alright, John - would you mind standing up for me? I prefer to do my examinations upright. It helps me get a feel for how your chest will sit after surgery, and how much tissue I need to take off.”

“Of course.”

John stood and stepped away from the table. Moriarty closed the distance between them in an instant. John could feel his breath on his face, the heat radiating from his body... The small space was intimate. Dangerously so. John couldn’t help but imagine Moriarty pinning him against the wall and kissing him hard, those full pink lips claiming his mouth and senses...

Bare fingers slid over his skin. John let out a quiet sound as Jim lifted his breasts in his soft hands, massaging them gently. He caressed his nipples, manipulating them until they pressed hard against the pads of his thumbs. 

“Good response,” Moriarty breathed. “A bit small, but they won’t look out of place when your chest is flat. They’ll sit here -”

He pushed John’s breasts up, holding them so his nipples sat a good seven inches higher. 

“ - and you have enough areola tissue that they shouldn’t look abnormal. You’ll have no feeling, I’m afraid, but your partners won’t feel any difference when they touch you. They’ll still feel this silky.”

“If - if you need to, to prevent dogearing, you can make the incisions wider...”

John’s voice was barely more than a whisper in the quiet room.

“You can see I’m no stranger to scars. I don’t mind.”

“I’ll have to, with your permission. There’s only so much I can do, your breast tissue kind of connects to your back roll here, but it will help. … You’ve done your research, that’s good!” 

Jim gently set his breasts back against his chest.

“I’ll have to connect the incisions here, in the middle, to prevent it from pouching out. It’ll look more like one cut than two, is that alright John?”

He dragged his finger between John’s breasts, teasing the gap beneath them. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s… I’ve seen your results, doctor. I’m fine with that.”

“Jim, please. Call me Jim.”

“... Jim.”

John could get lost in those eyes. Dark, deep, drawing him in as he caressed his heavy breasts… He couldn’t stop smiling like a lovesick pup. For years he’d avoided physical intimacy, desperate to alleviate the dysphoria that ripped and clawed at him daily. There’d been no kissing, no touching, no sexual partners. How could he trust anyone to handle him like fragile glass?

Dr Moriarty did. For the first time the crushing weight of his breasts disappeared. In Jim’s skillful hands he was just a man, a man who would soon feel comfortable in his own skin. 

When did it get so warm?

“Johnny?”

That soft, lilting brogue sent shivers down his spine. John could feel his hands resting against his breasts, idly stroking his scarred skin. He opened his mouth to speak, trying to find any words to explain how much he appreciated the care Moriarty showed - 

He kissed John hard. His soft lips pressed against his own as he guided him back against the examination chair. Humming, John wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. He knew it wasn’t right, but he’d never felt desired - it was intoxicating. John needed more, more of Jim, more of the heat building in his gut. 

“Thank you,” John managed, panting as he chased Jim’s lips. “Thank you, Jim.” 

Tears welled in his eyes. Smiling, holding Jim close, he let himself relax as Jim bumped their foreheads together.

“Your sister will get suspicious if we take too long.”

“... Do you, um. Do you want to keep going?”

“Of course I do, Johnny.”

With a frustrated groan, John pushed Jim back a little. 

“Let me give you my number? We could ‘talk’ more later, when you don’t have patients waiting. You’ll, uh, need to know my body, if you’re going to do a job that makes me happy.”

Jim grinned and pinched his nipple. 

“You make a compelling point. Write it on the notepad by the door when you leave.” 

He dragged his tongue along the curve of John’s throat, licking away his sweat, and separated himself from him. 

“I’ll see you soon, Johnny. Take care.”

Dr Moriarty winked at him and adjusted his clothes before excusing himself. Harry entered a few moments after him, giving John a thumbs up.

“How’d it go? D’you like him?”

“Oh yeah,” he answered. “I’m in good hands with Jim.”


End file.
